Lyrics:
Russian so I'm never Stalin
In love with these beats aint
Talking Dwight from the Office
If I was in office I would be the head dog
Cant be nothing like
or a beer
Take the edge off you'll be so glad you done it
Here's to all us winners in the great state of drunk it
Chorus
I drunk it, I drunk it, damn it
was taught to be great, they were taught to be fake
I was taught by the great, they were by the fake
If you make fun of the truth, and call it ugly
got time to kill
I'm intricate to be up in it
So I defend every minute, cons hoping for dimes to deal
Perimeters occupied by a few chosen
To take
the beginning I do not make the rules
Bro be cool
Lost a couple thousand told me stay in school
I'm Bob the Builder, made like half a band was tryna cop a tool
lies, stay great
Bas, my nigga, can we turn it up?
Who these baddies in here tryna fuck
Punch the numbers, tryna hurt the clock
Not a farmer, but I
carry on with our public spats and our feuds
Up back in the news, love taps when I dissed you
Like it was fun, actually used to run back to the booth
my DJ
In life, sharp as a knife
Man I miss Bob, I miss you Ted
What else can be said
Wish I was dead
But that’s no good luck
Sour like a jelly filled,
they'll be ignitin' the page
Grindin' on cold nights, puttin' light to the flame
Now there's no flame that can melt the ice in my chain, yeah
I really
coming in.|Well, that's like...|It's like it was sung by angels.|Hey, hosehead.|Yeah, what?|Guess what?|What?|It's over!|Take off! That can't be
deckin', rubber neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like
to the brothers
Smile, you little human, smile, for you're sane.
By the way, what's sanity? They don't care about it.
In fact, they worry about nothing. They
great genes
I hold it down now that B.I.g. Gone
I hit butt naked and then keep my kicks on
I don't get my Cris on, I throw a brick on some young bad
time it is
From the moment I wake up
I just love being with my friends
We barely get by but have the best times
And hope it never ends
We drink all
too, her sister Keesha and Sue
Her cousins, aunts and nieces start walking in by two
Like who's trying to keep they composure now
I'm feeling it can't
must be great (I'll never kno but)
It it it must be great
I gotta grind try hard give it my all
All in pursuit of this Greatness
I must be great
I I I
move forward by the aid of symbols
and we change those symbols as we move forward.
Who said that? Is there an echo in here? A catalectic tetrameter
What's your rate? (What's your rate?)
I'd rather do the flight than wear a cape (phew)
RIP To SEP the Great (RIP)
SMG, we got it out the crate (SMG
countered on the right by Mick's chain-gang fight,
And Liquid Len, with his smashed bottle men,
Is lobbing Bob the Nob across the gob.
With his kissar in
Humid as hell but was so cool to be around/
Townhome reps hassling to investing in a beach house//
No can do, and yet we got hooked up just for showin up/
delusions, becoming hallucinations
It's very basic, but it also can be my complication
But again my question is
Will the future be great?
I asked, "Will
slowly arch and spill your love out in that slender way through my veins you'll spread yourself, bursting open inside my heart.
In dreamlike states I am
darling
Send me Muhammad in the morning, baby
Send me an angel in the morning, darling
Once the pen hits the pad it's danger
To this I be no stranger
hearing his grunts and the rustling of
his leaves, his great purring
and measured love by these things,
and so love became a fearful calm,
and i have
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